


Protector

by avaalons



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:30:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avaalons/pseuds/avaalons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>This isn’t strength,</i> Jaime wanted to say, <i>this is submission.</i></p>
<p>Day 2 entry for the Game of Ships Roses Are Red, Weddings Are Too event over at LJ.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protector

It was all Jaime could do not to snort in disbelief when he entered the darkened, fragrant chamber belonging to his twin. Cersei had summoned him to her rooms and the request was routine enough for him to have no inkling whatsoever of what he eventually saw in there. He didn’t know what he had expected (or perhaps he did, but he felt foolish for that particular thought now, standing here before her), but he knew he definitely had not expected to find Sansa Stark, hostage of the crown, glassy-eyed and still – so still – against the silks of the bed. Her pretty head was cradled against Cersei’s breast, while her hair was gently combed through by her fingers.  
  
‘And here he is, little dove. Our knight, our champion against all things. He will always keep us safe, for you are mine, and I am his to protect. You understand that, don’t you? You are forever under our protection now, alone in the world as you are.’  
  
There was no response at all from the girl, nothing to break that chilling, blank stare.  
  
‘She understands,’ Cersei told him, and he could do nothing but take her at her word.  
  
Jaime wondered if this was what total brokenness looked like. Was this what happened when your insides were nothing more than shattered glass? Would the eyes always give you away as being there in body but with a mind that was far, far away?  
  
He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, why he had been summoned to this room at this particular moment. It struck him with almost horrifying clarity that he had no idea what game Cersei was playing at; he, who used to able to instinctively know what she would do in any given situation, was clueless in the audience of this particular show.  
  
‘Jaime,’ she didn’t look up from Sansa’s face when she addressed him, and that irritated him more than it probably should have, ‘Come here. Show our little dove how much we love her, how we will keep her safe.’  
  
He felt his feet move seemingly without his command, his body so used to following Cersei’s lead. Then he was next to the pair of them, his hand reaching out aimlessly into the air until Cersei guided it to Sansa’s head, her hand covering his own to glide over the auburn tresses, smoothing it away from her vacant, empty face.   
  
‘She is a child, Jaime. Just like I was. Does she remind you of me when I was younger? Does she? She needs protecting, Jaime, we need to protect her.’  
  
He turned his face sharply to hers then, one eyebrow raised.  
  
‘I think your idea of protection and her idea of protection differ somewhat, sweet sister,’ he said, thinking of beatings and blood and bouncing heads.  
  
‘It will be easier for her. If she can endure, she will be stronger for it.’  
  
 _This isn’t strength,_ Jaime wanted to say, _this is submission_. He saw only the apathy that comes with no longer caring if you live or die. He had seen it before, felt it within himself even, but it had never lasted. It was always the thought of Cersei that dragged him back. Cersei would keep Sansa teetering on the precipice between life and death, that place where she had most control, just as she had with him. And nothing he did now, he supposed, would matter to Sansa Stark. It would only matter to Cersei, as it always had.  
  
‘Kiss her,’ Cersei commanded.  
  
And he did.


End file.
